Caramel On Ice Cream
by lydiamaartin
Summary: A blue-haired boy, a blue-eyed girl, and the first romance of a brand new generation. Because sometimes, fairytales do come true. - TeddyVictoire


**Disclaimer: If you recognize 'em, I don't own 'em.

* * *

**

Babies, Teddy Lupin realizes quickly, are really, _really_ small.

"That's Victoire, sweetheart," his grandmother tells him, bouncing him on her shoulder so he can get a better look at the newborn Victoire Weasley, lying fast asleep in her crib at St. Mungo's. "Isn't she adorable?"

"Vicka," he proclaims, waving his hand in an attempt to touch the new and exciting thing he's just been introduced to.

"Oh, no," Andromeda chuckles, drawing him away before he manages to hit Victoire. "She's very sensitive, Teddy. You have to be careful not to hurt her."

Teddy blinks his bright, currently-gold eyes innocently up at her. "No," he says firmly. He doesn't understand much of what his grandmother says, partly because she refuses to speak like Harry and Ginny and the other big people do to him, but he knows that _hurt_ is a bad thing.

"I don't wanna," he adds when Andromeda raises her eyebrow. "Hurt is bad."

He looks at Victoire for a moment, eyes shifting to light pink, and then adds, "Vicka is _pretty_."

* * *

"Vicka!" Fleur calls, walking through the garden of her brother-in-law's house. "Vicka, love, where are you?"

Victoire pops up from behind a tree, giggling madly, a misshapen crown of clumsily-strung-together daisies on her head. "Yes, Mama?"

"It's time to go home," Fleur tells her, adjusting her daughter's daisy crown with a smile. "Your Uncle Percy is kicking everyone out."

A pout forms on Victoire's face just as Teddy's mop of indigo hair appears from behind a nearby bush. "Why?" he asks in surprise.

Fleur smiles fondly at him, reaching over to brush off his grass-streaked jacket. "Well, because Fred and Molly got into one of their arguments and almost blew up the kitchen, that's why."

"That's not fair!" Victoire protests. "We were having _fun_!"

"Vicka—" Fleur begins gently, but is interrupted by a sigh from Teddy.

"Everyone calls you that!" he complains, turning to Victoire and ignoring her surprised mother. "Even though it was _my_ nickname first!"

Fleur covers her mouth to hide her laugh. "Teddy, dear, you were two when you called her that," she points out.

"Still!" Teddy sulks. "I want my own nickname for you, Vicka. I mean—how about 'Vicky'?"

Victoire frowns. "That's even _worse_!"

Teddy cracks a smile. "Yeah, it is," he admits. "Well…what about 'Torie'?"

"It's 'Toire' not 'Torie'," Fleur points out, but neither of the children are listening to her.

"I like it!" Victoire decides, beaming.

"Great!" Teddy grins. "Then I'll see you tomorrow—Torie."

Victoire giggles and allows her mother to scoop her up without protest this time. "Bye, Teddy!"

"Bye, Torie!"

Fleur smiles affectionately at her daughter as they go inside, absolutely certain that she's going to win ten galleons the day Teddy and Victoire get married.

* * *

_Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick—_

"Shut up," Victoire huffs, glaring at the newly-polished clock face that taunts her with its seemingly-unchanging hands. "If you're not going to move, you should at least have the decency to be quiet!"

The clock, oddly enough, doesn't reply.

"Hey, Vicka, do you want to come play Quidditch with us?" Dominique asks cheerfully, bouncing into the living room in a whirl of polka-dots and six-year-old sunshine. "Everyone's out back! If you join, we'll have fourteen players, since the little kids can't play yet."

"No, thanks, Nika," Victoire sighs, slumping in her chair. "I'm waiting for Uncle Harry and Teddy to come home from baseball tryouts."

"Oh, yeah," Dominique remembers, hopping up onto the coffee table and swinging her legs. "I didn't know Teddy played baseball."

Victoire smiles. "He doesn't. He just thought it'd be fun to try out, and it's not like Uncle Harry would ever refuse him anything."

"It's not like _you_ would, either," Dominique giggles, darting out of the room before her sister can do more than narrow her eyes. "See ya, sis!"

"You're a brat!" Victoire calls after her, all of her eight-years-old indignation on her face. But she doesn't have time to chase her sister, because right then, the door opens and her favorite blue-haired boy in the world walks through.

"Teddy!" she cries joyfully, launching herself into his arms. Teddy stumbles back, surprised, but he catches her neatly, his turquoise hair flushing pink under his godfather's knowing smile.

"Hi, Torie," he greets, sounding somewhat bemused at her enthusiastic welcome.

"Did you make the team?" Victoire asks, blue eyes bright with excitement as she pulls away. "Are you gonna get a baseball and a bat and a cap and everything?"

"No," Teddy admits, and then quickly adds, "But I still got a cool cap!"

Victoire looks up to his head, finally noticing the bright blue ball cap sitting on his head. It clashes horribly with his hair, but neither of them really care about that. "That's so cool!" she gushes, lifting it off his head and turning it around in her hands so she can look at the whole thing.

Teddy grins. "Thanks. I think I'm going to try out next year, just so I can get another cap."

Victoire giggles and sets it back on his head. "Well, you should keep this one," she tells him happily, hugging him again. "It looks good on you."

He doesn't take the cap off for two months.

* * *

"Teddy, have you seen Vicka?"

Bill's words make Teddy skid to a stop in the kitchen of Shell Cottage, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Not for two hours. Why?"

"She's missing," Bill sighs, running an anxious hand through his red hair. "Last I saw her, she was in here, eating, and now there's no trace of her."

Realization dawns on Teddy as his hair shifts to a tell-tale orange. "Oh, um…that might be my fault," he admits sheepishly.

Bill turns to him, one eyebrow expertly raised in a look Teddy's _positive_ he practices in the mirror. "What'd you do?"

Teddy looks down, embarrassed. "Well, I—she wouldn't stop crying, you know, about me leaving for Hogwarts and I, um, got a little annoyed. So, uh—I guess I sorta yelled at her a bit and then she ran off and…I haven't seen her since. I'm really sorry!" he adds quickly, not daring to look up at Bill. "I wanted to apologize, but she'd already ran off!"

With a sigh, which was not the reaction Teddy was expecting, Bill kneels down and places his hands on Teddy's shoulder. "Look, Teddy. I understand that girls—especially girls younger than you—can get a little annoying. I do have a sister, after all, and Ginny was just as emotional when the rest of her brothers and I went off to Hogwarts. But you need to find her and you need to apologize; otherwise, you're gonna be miserable whenever you think of her at Hogwarts, because that's nine months away from her and nine months wasted fighting."

Teddy breathes deeply. "I know, I know. I'll find her. Promise."

It takes him a half-hour of hunting before he thinks to look in her favorite spot by the sea—the grave of Dobby the elf. It's hidden by an apple tree that sprouted up (with the help of magic, of course) a few years ago, and Victoire's used it to conceal herself from view so well, he has to walk by it three times before he notices her.

"Torie?" he asks gently, afraid of upsetting her. "Are you—can we talk?"

She sniffles, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. "No."

Her flat refusal catches him off-guard; Victoire has never sent him away when he wants to talk or play with her, and he's not sure how to deal with her anger this time.

But he tries again anyway. "_Please_? I promise I won't yell. I just wanted to apologize."

"I don't want to talk to you," Victoire insists. "You can just run away to Hogwarts and never see me again, for all I care."

Her words sting, but not enough to dissuade him from clambering under the low branches of the tree to join her against the trunk.

"Torie, _please_," Teddy sighs. "I'm sorry, all right? I was just mad because—"

Here he stops, but her curiosity's piqued. "Because why?" she presses.

Teddy looks away, swallowing, knowing his hair is probably bright red. "Because I was trying to forget that I would have to leave you and you _weren't helping_."

To his surprise, she giggles.

"What?" he demands, turning towards her. "Are you laughing at me?"

"A little," she admits, and he feels his cheeks warm when she takes his hand. "Why didn't you just _tell_ me? I would have stopped."

"I didn't want you to _know_!" Teddy protests. "It's embarrassing!"

"You're silly," she tells him ingenuously. "I'm gonna miss you, Teddy."

"I'll miss you, too, Torie," he murmurs, and they waste the rest of the afternoon under the apple tree, laughing as if they aren't about to be separated for nine months.

* * *

"Whoa! That was totally awesome!"

"Great shot, Seth!"

"I'm still winning, you prats."

"Yeah, whatever, mate. I'll catch up sooner or later!"

"Not sooner than me!"

_Knock-knock_.

Teddy looks over at his bedroom door in surprise. "Pause the game, everyone. It could be my grandma."

When he opens the door, though, it's not his grandmother standing there, but his best friend. Victoire beams up at him, her strawberry-blond curls pulled up into a ponytail which he recognizes as her 'going-out hairstyle'. She's dressed for spring weather, as if she was going outside, but he has no idea why.

"Are you ready to go the ice cream parlor, Teddy?" she asks him, eyeing his curious friends hesitantly.

"I…" Teddy blinks. "That was _today_?"

Victoire frowns at him. "It's always today. It's the first day of the month, remember?"

Teddy cringes apologetically. "I'm sorry, Torie, I forgot."

"That's okay," she says brightly. "Just get dressed and we can go."

"I can't, actually," he tells her slowly, trying to minimize the pain. "We're…kinda in the middle of a game here."

Instead of crying, as he expects her to do, Victoire crosses her arms with all the dignity of a ten-year-old girl and narrows her eyes at him. "Oh, all _right_, then," she huffs. "I'll go with—"

"I'll go with you!" pipes up Seth Hartford, a dazed look in his eyes as he smiles at Victoire.

"_What_?" Teddy demands in bewilderment.

Victoire looks at Seth oddly. "I was _going_ to say Molly and Lucy," she mutters. "Um."

"I love ice cream," Seth continues, standing and sauntering towards her in what Teddy guesses is supposed to be a suave and cool manner. "And I'd love to go with you."

Victoire's arms drop to her sides and she looks at Teddy, seeming just as puzzled as he feels. "Uh, that's okay, Seth," she says carefully, ignoring the way his eyes light up when she says his name. "I'll just go with my cousins. Um, bye."

"Bye," Teddy says as she turns and walks out of his bedroom. "I'm—Torie, I'm sorry!"

"Forget it!" she calls back, clearly too caught off guard by Seth's enthusiasm to stay mad at him.

"What," Teddy begins once she's gone, rounding on his startled friend, "was _that_ all about?"

* * *

_Roses bloom, mush of shrooms, and add a dash of cinna—_

"Would you stop humming that song?" Teddy groans in exasperation. "You've gotten it stuck in my head five times this week alone!"

Victoire giggles, shifting through a rack of robes in the center of Madam Malkins' store. "Sorry," she says, not at all contrite. "But it's _catchy_ and I can't just stop humming it!"

Teddy sighs, folding his arms over a counter stacked with clothes so he can smile at her. "Well…I'll let you off the hook this time."

"Thanks ever so," Victoire rolls her eyes, reaching over a hideously-purple robe to smack him lightly.

"You need to work on your arm," he teases, not even pretending to be hurt. "Excited for Hogwarts?"

"You need to work on staying on the same subject for more than ten words," she retorts. "And…yeah. A lot."

Teddy twists around and hops up onto the counter, displacing several robes and earning a squawk of outrage from the teenaged assistant. "You got any plans?"

"No…" Victoire draws out the word, entirely unconvincing.

He grins cheekily at her. "Do too! I know you, Torie, and you're the most organized person I know."

Victoire sticks her tongue out at him. "That's because you surround yourself with Potters. I love them and all, but James, Al, and Lily are hardly the neatest people around."

"I know," he laughs. "So, spill. What have you got up that non-existent sleeve of yours?"

Victoire glances down at her sleeveless sundress and smacks him again, marginally less lightly. He still doesn't bother to fake pain.

"Well," she begins thoughtfully. "I want to get good grades. And have friends. And learn—"

Teddy waves an impatient hand at her. "Yeah, yeah, I know, so does everyone. Mostly. Get to the good stuff, Torie. You dream _big_, and I know it."

She blushes. "Well, I—I want to be _recognized_, all right? I want to be known as _Victoire_, not as _that part-Veela Weasley_, not as _Bill Weasley's eldest_, not as any kind of Weasley. I want people to know me for _me_."

Teddy whistles, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "With ambition like that, you're gonna end up in Slytherin, Torie."

Victoire bats his hand away. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr. _Hufflepuff_. I'm aiming for Ravenclaw."

"There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff! And…" Teddy pauses, tilting his head. "Not Gryffindor, then?"

She sighs. "I don't know. I just—I don't know."

Teddy slides off on her side of the counter and envelops her in a hug. "Well, I don't care what House you're in," he declares firmly as she nestles into his body. "You'll always be my best friend."

* * *

"SLYTHERIN!"

Dead silence infuses the Hall, a wave of surprise and confusion sweeping across the students and faculty.

Victoire swallows, removes the Hat with shaky hands, and begins to step down from the platform. All at once, whispers sprout up in the hushed conversations taking place all around the Hall. She shoots a glance at the Hufflepuff table, where Teddy sits, surrounded by friends and every bit as astonished as the rest of the school.

"_The first Weasley of the generation—and she's a _Slytherin?"

"_I don't believe it."_

"_Why isn't she in Gryffindor?"_

"_What's wrong with her?"_

She wants to shout, to scream, to tell everyone that there's nothing _wrong_ with her, that she's perfectly fine, that she _belongs_ in Slytherin (or, if she doesn't, she'll force herself to, because Gryffindor stubbornness is genetic). But her voice doesn't seem to work.

Someone claps. She jerks her head around and finds that it's Teddy—of _course_ it's him; didn't he promise her she'd always be his best friend, no matter what House she was in?

His friends join in next, and slowly, the stunned audience begins to applaud. A smile spreads across her face, and her feet quicken of their own accord, stopping at the Slytherin table, which is now full of students clapping thunderously.

"We got a _Weasley_," whispers one older girl, a grin on her face. "We _totally_ get to hold this over those stupid Gryffindors for the next seven years."

Victoire twists her head as Professor Slughorn calls up the next student, her eyes seeking Teddy out automatically.

He grins at her, mouthing _'Always'_ to her, and she sits down at her table with a smile on her face.

* * *

"Hey, there. How's my favorite serpent doing?"

Victoire laughs, turning around to look at Teddy as he enters the Owlery. "Good," she tells him. "I think."

He wanders forward, his eagle owl, Antonio, swooping down to fly circles around his head. "Is that a letter from your parents?" he asks, gesturing at the piece of parchment she's clutching in her hands.

She gulps. "Yeah. I—I haven't opened it yet."

Teddy offers her a grin to put her at ease. "Do you want me to read it?" he asks softly.

"Yes, please," she says in a small voice and hands him the letter.

His eyes, bright green like his godfather's, skim over the letter. "They're proud of you," he tells her. "They love you. Torie, you should really read this letter. They're not disappointed."

"Not even a little bit?" she asks, perplexed. "Not even Daddy?"

Teddy slides the letter into her hands. "Torie, what'd I tell you? Even if your parents _did_ disown you or do something equally ridiculous, you'll still have me, all right?"

Victoire chokes out a laugh and hugs him tightly. "You know what you remind me of?" she whispers, burying her head in his shoulder. "Caramel on ice cream."

He draws back, looking befuddled. "Huh?"

She giggles, brushing his tiger-striped bangs out of his face. "I love caramel on my ice cream," she clarifies, smiling up at him. "But it's about as unhealthy for me as your compliments."

Teddy snorts. "I'll take it as a compliment. And here."

Before she can ask what he's doing, he pulls out something sparkly from his pocket and holds it out to her. It's a silver chain gliding through a hole made in a small, crystal ball that reflects all the colors of the rainbow. With a small smile, he loops it around her neck and tucks the crystal into her shirt.

"What's it for?" she breathes, eyes wide in surprise, her hand shooting up to touch the necklace through her shirt.

Teddy shrugs. "Well, we won't be able to see each other much, what with us being in different Houses and different years. I figured you might need something to remind you of me."

She hugs him again, another delighted laugh bubbling up in her. "I could never forget you, Teddy."

"Well, good," he says, sounding slightly embarrassed but also pleased. "I'd never forget you either, Torie."

* * *

She hears the whispers. It's impossible not to. She knows that people think she's _weirdwrongdifferent_ just for being in Slytherin.

But, to be honest, she's acclimating to Slytherin remarkably well for a girl raised on Gryffindor values and Beauxbatons manners. The Common Room, while misty and damp, is cozy, and she's already claimed a green armchair in the corner for herself, by virtue of being the Slytherin Weasley.

And she's been making friends. Some, slowly, but friends all the same.

One of them, a girl named Genevieve Cailling, seeks her out in the Common Room one night to discuss—allegedly—homework.

Of course, what she really says is, "Do you know that Lupin boy in Hufflepuff?"

Victoire blinks in confusion. "Teddy? Yeah, he's my best friend. Why?"

Genevieve sighs and flops down on the silver carper in front of her friend. "My older sister—you know Isobel, right?—she's seen him talking to you and wants information. She _likes_ him." She makes a face. "It's utterly ridiculous, if you ask me."

Victoire doesn't really hear Genevieve's last comment, though. Her mind is filled with images of Isobel—pretty, popular, fourteen-year-old Isobel with dark, dancing locks and seductive green eyes and a body like a supermodel—and Isobel and Teddy as _IsobelandTeddy_ and she really, really can't stand it.

"So, you got anything?" Genevieve asks, and she realizes she's missed something.

"Um, sorry, what?"

Genevieve raises an eyebrow. "Any information? About Teddy? Y'know, Iso's like a leech; once she's got her claws into someone, she doesn't let go. And I can't very well go back to her with _nothing_. So—save my life, would you?"

Victoire takes a deep breath and stands up. "I have to go," she whispers, and all but runs out of the Common Room.

* * *

He doesn't date Isobel.

"Why would you even _think_ I would?" Teddy laughs as they decorate the Christmas tree one year later after numerous attempts from Isobel to flirt with him all through his fourth year. "She's annoying, she's bossy, she's rude, and she's a _Slytherin_."

Victoire, twelve now and smiling as he speaks, suddenly looks up, brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"

Teddy glances over at her in confusion and then realizes who he's talking to. "I mean—I didn't mean—Torie, that's not what I—"

She steps back, blue eyes wide with betrayal. "Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!" he says desperately. "Torie, I promise—_promesse_, is that right?—it's not!"

His messed-up pronounciation of French makes her stop. "You're not pronouncing it right," she tells him.

Teddy moves closer, offering her a sheepish grin. "Sorry," he says, delighted to see a small smile on her face. "Torie, you know you're my best friend, and I don't care if you're a Slytherin. I've told you so many times—you _must_ know it by now."

"I do," Victoire sighs and sits down on the nearest chair. "I guess I'm just too sensitive to those kinds of comments."

He sits down beside her and envelops her in a sideway hug. "And I won't make them again. Promise. _Promesse_. Did I get it right that time?"

She giggles, turning her head and burying it in his blue jacket. "No. _Promesse_."

"_Promesse_," Teddy repeats obediently, grinning when she laughs again. "I'll get it right next time, Torie."

"I have no doubts."

"…Liar."

* * *

Boys are starting to notice her.

Teddy frowns down at his plate of chicken and rice. _Well, it's to be expected_, he reasons to himself. _She's thirteen. She's part-Veela. She's popular and pretty and funny. Why _wouldn't _boys notice her?_

He cranes his neck to look over the Ravenclaw table at where Victoire is sitting, surrounded by her Slytherin friends, giggling over something someone—one of the boys—has said, and he feels something unpleasant twisting in his stomach.

He doesn't _like_ it when boys notice her.

Adrian Urquhart says another joke, and the third-year Slytherins burst into loud laughter. Victoire smiles brilliantly at him and reaches up to adjust the Slytherin-green ribbon in her hair and Teddy's hands itch because once, when they were younger, he would do that for her.

She's old enough to do it herself now, though. She doesn't need him.

"Mate, what are you staring at?" Joseph Davies demands. "Don't tell me you've decided to start lusting after Cailling, too. That girl's a menace!"

Teddy glances over again and, right on cue, Isobel winks flirtatiously at him. He turns back and rolls his eyes at Joseph. "Don't be ridiculous. I was watching Victoire."

"Ah, right," Joseph chortles. "How does it feel, having your best friend be a third year girl in Slytherin, by the way? You never said."

"It's not important," Teddy says through gritted teeth, knowing that the only reason her House and age difference _are_ important is because they mean he won't always be there to keep an eye out for her or to scare boys away.

"Well, I know that," Joseph says sincerely, and Joseph is physically incapable of lying, so Teddy believes him. "But…it's got to be weird, right? Knowing she's got a life outside of you when you've been together all these years? I still feel that way about my little sister, and she's only one year younger than me."

"I have a life outside of her, too!" Teddy protests. "It doesn't mean we're not best friends."

"Yeah, but how long till she gets a boyfriend? What'll you do then?" Joseph presses.

Teddy drops his head into his hands and groans. "I don't know."

* * *

As it turns out, he gets a girlfriend before any boy works up the courage to ask her out.

"Oh, you're so cute!" Cecilia Brooke coos when he introduces her to Victoire, and Teddy knows things are off to a bad start.

Victoire looks at Cecilia as if she's got two heads. "Excuse me?" she demands with a well-practiced flair for the dramatics that comes from being a Delacour.

"I mean, you're just adorable," beams Cecilia, reaching out to ruffle Victoire's curls.

Victoire jerks her head away and Teddy sighs. "I'm thirteen!" she exclaims.

Cecilia only smiles as if that makes her even _more_ adorable and turns to Teddy. "Don't you think she's cute, Ted?"

Victoire raises her eyebrows; whether because Cecilia's using his hated nickname or because she's curious as to his answer, Teddy doesn't know.

"Um, yeah, I guess," Teddy mumbles. "Shouldn't we get going?"

"Oh, of course!" Cecilia giggles, all bubbles and sunshine, and loops her arm through his. "Do you have a date, Vicky?"

Teddy smacks his forehead. Victoire likes the nickname 'Vicka' and she adores 'Torie', but 'Vicky' is absolutely detestable.

"My name," Victoire begins in a deliberately-slow and dangerous tone, "is _Victoire_."

Then, she tosses her hair, returning in an instant to his pre-Slytherin Torie, and levels him an amused look. "Have _fun_, Teddy."

And then she flounces off in a manner he's sure she practices regularly in the mirror.

* * *

"So, Vicka, what kind of flowers do you like?"

"…Huh?"

Victoire looks up from her Charms textbook, brow furrowed, into the smiling brown eyes of Adrian Urquhart.

"I _said_—" he begins, still grinning at her.

"No, no, I heard what you said," Victoire assures him, shaking her head to clear it of spell incantations. "I mean, _why_ do you want to know?"

Adrian shrugs, carefully nonchalant. "Just curious. Y'know, in case I ever wanted to get you a Valentine or something."

Her eyes widen. "You want to get me a Valentine?"

His face flushes, but he doesn't look away. "Well, maybe," he says, slightly defensive. "If…if you wanted me to."

Without thinking about it, she turns her smile up a notch on the brightness meter. "I'd love that," she tells him, batting her eyes in the same way Aunt Gabrielle does when she visits them and wants to get ice cream for free from Reese Fortescue.

Adrian's grin widens to match hers as he runs one hand through his dark, wavy hair. "Really? I—I mean, awesome. So, uh, what kind of flowers?"

She taps her quill to her cheek in thought and then flashes him another brilliant smile. "Surprise me," she says decisively.

Adrian squeezes her hand with a smile and then races upstairs, and she tries not to think about how Teddy wouldn't have even needed to ask.

* * *

They're growing apart.

"I don't like this," Teddy confesses, cornering her in a courtyard while she studying in the shade of an orange tree.

"Like what?" Victoire asks, clueless, as she looks up at him.

Teddy gestures at the air between them. "This. _Us_. Not hanging out together anymore. I don't like it, Torie."

She closes her book and sighs. "I don't like it, either. But what do we do? We're in different years and different Houses. Soon, you're going to be graduating."

"We have to make time for each other," he says, sinking down on the grass next to her. "So, tell me about your life."

His warm smile teases a giggle out of her. "I've been studying, mostly, prepping for OWLs. Going to Hogsmeade with my friends and—um, and Adrian."

Teddy tenses, his smile fading and his hair flashing stormy black. "You're still seeing him?"

Victoire glances away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned that."

He swallows his annoyance and coaxes his hair back to turquoise. "No, no. I asked about your life, didn't I? Is he…does he make you happy?"

She folds a blade of grass between her fingers. "I…well, yes. I mean, mostly, yeah."

"'Mostly', huh?" he says, trying to ignore the feeling of hope leaping in his stomach. "Is he not romantic enough or something?"

Victoire smiles. "No, it's just that, well, I don't love him. And I don't think he loves me either."

Teddy grins. "Yeah, you were always the girl who loved those muggle fairytales about true love and prince charmings and what not, weren't you?"

She shoves him, giggling. "Well, yes, I suppose," she admits.

"Didn't you plan your wedding when you were seven?" he adds, laughing.

Victoire rolls her eyes. "I can't believe you remember that!"

"You're hard to forget," Teddy says, squeezing her hand. "I mean, it's been fourteen years and I've yet to get you out of my mind."

He's not sure if it's his words or his smile or maybe his orange-and-green hair, but he swears he sees a blush on her cheeks.

* * *

"I think Lily has a crush on you," Victoire pipes up randomly one breezy day in the summer before her fifth year.

Teddy rolls over, displacing a cluster of wildflowers near his feet. "Pardon?"

Victoire laughs, reaching over to free the flowers from under his legs. "I'm _serious_. She's been alternately watching you out of the window and talking to Hugo all afternoon!"

To prove her point, she nods to the closest window, which has a clear view of them (Bill insists they study in that same spot every time Teddy comes to his house; she can only guess why). Lily and Hugo's bright red-orange heads are quite visible through the glass. On cue, Lily looks over through the window, sees Teddy staring at her, and glances away quickly, giggling.

"Wasn't it Lucy last week?" Teddy asks, bemused, as he runs a hand through his now-pink hair.

"And Roxie two weeks before that," Victoire adds, smiling playfully at him. "You attract Wea—redheads like crazy, Teddy."

He sends her a look. "You were going to say 'Weasleys', weren't you?"

"No," she insists, looking away quickly. "Why would you think that?"

Teddy flashes her an irresistible grin. "Didn't you ever have a crush on me, Torie?"

"I—" Victoire feels her cheeks turn red in the trademark Weasley blush. Luckily, she's interrupted by Lily running outside and into Teddy's arms.

"Whoa!" Teddy laughs, catching her just in time. "Lily, what's the matter?"

Lily beams at him, brown eyes bright. "Do you want a friendship bracelet?"

Victoire tries not to laugh. "Oh, yeah, you should make him one in all the colors of the rainbow. Plus pink!"

Teddy shoots her a glower over the top of Lily's head. "Uh, no, Lils, that's seriously okay."

It's too late, though, as Lily's face has already lit up. "Ooh, I have lots of beads to make a rainbow with! I'll have it ready for you tomorrow!"

He sighs. "Right. Thanks, Lily."

She bats her eyes at him in a way Victoire's certain she's copied from Dominique. "Aren't you gonna kiss me goodbye?"

Teddy presses a quick kiss to her temple. Lily giggles and skips away happily to where Hugo's waiting. When she's out of earshot, Teddy turns to Victoire with one eyebrow raised.

"You are the worst best friend ever," he declares, reopening the Transfiguration textbook that Lily had sat upon and sulking.

Victoire giggles. "Hey, at least I don't make you friendship bracelets."

"I'm still blaming you for it."

* * *

"Will you go with me to the May 2nd Gala?"

Blue eyes? Check.

Dark hair? Check.

Dreamy smile? Check.

Well-dressed? Check.

Sweet, charming, and polite? Check.

Teddy Lupin?

Unchecked.

Aware that May 2nd is her birthday?

Also unchecked.

"I'm sorry, Mason," Victoire says with an apologetic smile. "I already have other plans."

Mason frowned in confusion. "You already have a date, then? I thought you broke up with Urquhart."

She shakes her head. "No, I did, it's just—I don't go to the Gala. I'm sorry."

"You don't go to the _Gala_?" he demands. "Why not?"

"I just don't," she tells him, feeling her temper—Weasley _and_ Veela, a dangerous combination in any Gryffindor, let alone a Slytherin—spike with impatience. "Can you go now? I have to study for that Charms test next week."

He slinks off, sending her one last, befuddled look over his shoulder. She's about to return to her Charms review when another voice, this one much brighter and friendlier, pipes behind her.

"Happy early birthday, I think," Teddy grins, ambling over and plopping down on the seat next to her. "Considering you're not spending it with Mason Blake, I'm sure it'll be happy."

Victoire rolls her eyes, though she can't help the smile that crosses her face. "I'm sure it will be, too, considering my _best friend_ is gallivanting off to the Gala without me."

"Only for an hour!" Teddy protests. "Hey, I'm seventeen and this is probably the second-coolest thing I get to do now that I'm of age! And I'll be back before you cut your cake, Torie, prom…_esse_."

She giggles. "You're still not pronouncing it right. And, out of curiosity, what would the first-coolest thing be? So I know what I have to look forward to?"

Teddy flashes her his most mischievous grin and leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and his head on his palms. "Why, it's drinking firewhiskey, of course."

"You're incorrigible," Victoire informs him, hiding her smile in her textbook. "I don't suppose you have a date to the Gala yet?"

Though she tries to make the words sound casual, Teddy raises an eyebrow and smirks at her anyway, clearly aware of the blush on her cheeks. "You, if you'd agree to go with me."

"Nika's throwing me a birthday party, Teddy," she huffs, trying not to laugh when he turns his hair the same silvery-blond shade as Dominique's. "I can't skip out on my little sister, especially on my own birthday! And you know I don't like the Gala."

"I'm not too fond of celebrating my parents' deaths either, Torie," he points out, reaching over to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "But it's a party and it's fun and who am I to say no to free food? It'll be a good experience, I think. We don't even have to stay there the whole night. And I'm sure Nika will move the party back an hour if you bring her some food from the Gala."

His eyes turn an imploring, irresistible shade of blue and she sighs. "You are absolutely—"

"—Endearing?" he suggests, interrupting her with a grin. "Does that mean you'll go?" His hand slides across her skirt to rest over her open palm.

Victoire feels her cheeks warm at the contact. "Oh, all right. For an hour _only_, though."

"Yes!" Teddy punches the air with his fist, his hair switching to a triumphant teal. "I'll pick you up at seven, yeah?"

He kisses her cheek and races off to the Hufflepuff Common Room, leaving her giggling in the library and blushing like it's going out of style.

* * *

_Knowing_ that his best friend is part-Veela is one thing.

Seeing it proven is a completely different matter.

Teddy genuinely has to catch his breath as she walks towards him, and it's not at all because he, personally, finds her beautiful. Plenty of other boys are staring with slack jaws as well, and _their_ dates are watching in envy. It's not that Victoire is inhumanely, drop-dead gorgeous like her half-Veela grandmother (Teddy's met the woman, and Apolline Delacour could seriously be Aphrodite reincarnate; he can only wonder what Victoire's great-grandmother looked like). She's only one-eight Veela, and that translates to unnatural prettiness at best.

But then again, he's never thought 'unnatural prettiness' was this beautiful before.

"Wow," he manages when she's standing in front of him. "Um. I mean, you look…_wow_."

Victoire beams, and he finds her blush insanely adorable. "Thanks. You look pretty _wow_ yourself," she giggles, reaching out to adjust his crooked tie. "Mama sent me this dress for my birthday party, but since that's going to be out in the courtyards, I figured it might be put to better use at the Gala."

Said dress happens to be a silvery-blue number, highlighting her Weasley-blue eyes and allowing her strawberry-blond curls to be radiant against the silver satin as they spill down her back in a stream of ringlets. His crystal ball necklace, sparkling at her throat, also adds to her beauty, but Teddy's quite certain that it's the smile on her face that makes her gorgeous.

"Thanks," he says when he finds his voice again. "And, happy birthday, Torie."

With a bright smile, she darts into his arms for a hug, breaking away only when a bell resounds through the area to warn them that it's time to be leaving soon.

"We should probably go," Teddy mutters, reluctant to part with her.

"Right," Victoire smiles, smoothing down her dress as she pulls away. "We're only going to be there for an hour, so we may as well make the best of it."

He offers her his arm and with a playful curtsy, she takes it and they clamber into the nearest carriage, as ready as they'll ever be for their first May 2nd Gala.

* * *

It's been half an hour out of their allotted one hour, and they've only danced _twice_.

"That's upsetting," remarks her Aunt Ginny, laughing. "Vicka, sweetheart, maybe you should ask him to dance for a change?"

Victoire sighs. "Mama always said that the boy should make the first move."

"With all due respect, your mother can be a bit silly at times," says Ginny, being carefully polite. Victoire knows her mother and her aunt don't get along, but that doesn't stop Ginny from being one of her favorite aunts—not in the least because she's married to her favorite uncle, either.

"Well, yes, but even if I _did _ask him, when am I supposed to get him away from those friends of his?" Victoire huffs, glancing over at where Teddy is surrounded by his fellow seventh year friends, all boys, all with annoyed-looking dates, all laughing uproariously over some joke or the other.

"Just drag him away," Ginny suggests. "It works with your Uncle Harry."

Victoire giggles. "I'll try it. Thanks, Aunt Ginny."

Ginny winks at her. "Anytime, sweetheart."

Her aunt disappears into the dancing, laughing crowd, and Victoire takes a moment to breathe deeply before steeling herself and walking towards Teddy, weaving through the tipsy guests and the tittering old ladies until she's at his side.

"Teddy?" she asks, meaning to be quiet, but when Teddy turns to look at her, everybody in the group does as well. She's not entirely certain she likes the way some of his friends—Seth Greenwood in particular—are looking at her.

"Yeah, Torie?" he asks, adorably oblivious as to her problem.

Victoire shifts herself away from a leaning Greenwood and asks, "Can I talk to you? _Alone_."

"Sure," he says, taking her arm and distancing them from the group. One of the less-entranced boys snickers out a "Have fun!", but they both ignore him.

She looks at him for a moment, taking in his turquoise hair and his dark grey eyes. They were his real color, for once. He only ever turned them grey on her birthday—on his parents' death day.

"An hour's almost up, Teddy," she begins softly. "And you've been too busy with your friends to dance with me more than twice. Is it selfish of me to want some attention?"

His eyes widen. "_What_? I—no! No, Torie, I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry. I didn't even realize—I just—it's not selfish at all!"

Victoire giggles at his stammering. "It is, a little," she admits, covering his mouth with her hand when he opens it to protest. "I'm just used to having you all to myself whenever we're together."

Teddy leans down and rests his forehead against hers. "That's all right. I am, too. Will you dance with me?"

_His eyes really are brightest when they're grey_, Victoire thinks dizzily as she nods. Instead of leading her to the dance floor, however, he only brings his face closer and closer to hers until—

"Teddy!" cries a joyful Lily, leaping onto his back from behind. Teddy stumbles from the weight, away from Victoire, and she has to suppress both her annoyance and a smile at the sight.

"Um, hey, Lils," Teddy greets, exhaling once in frustration as Lily drops to the ground. She's still giggling, clutching Teddy's arm once she's on the ground.

"Hi, Vicka!" she adds brightly, and Victoire offers her a smile. "Teddy, let's dance!"

"Dance?" Teddy blinks, bewildered. "Lily, you…your head comes up to my waist. When you're on tip-toe. How do you expect us to dance?"

"Easy," Lily beams. "You lift me up and spin me around."

Victoire looks away so Teddy won't see her laugh. Lily's crush on him, while often a source of annoyance for Teddy, is unimaginably amusing to everyone else, even to her, the girl who thinks she might possibly actually be in love with him.

"Lils, I'm sorry, I'd love to, but I kind of already promised Torie a dance," Teddy says apologetically.

Victoire glances at him, eyebrows raised. Teddy _never_ refuses a Potter, especially Lily, anything. He claims their trademark messy hair is too adorable to deny. And Lily is undeniably his favorite of the lot.

Lily seems just as confused. "But—I wanna dance with you!"

Teddy ruffles her hair and kisses her head by way of apology. "Sorry, Lils. Maybe another time, okay? You know me; I don't break promises."

"Fine!" Lily huffs and whirls around, pouting as she storms off in a show of theatrics inherited quite possibly from Victoire herself.

Teddy runs a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. "I hate telling her 'no'," he mutters, half-laughing as he turns to face Victoire. "But I think I owe you a dance."

* * *

"You're _what_?"

Teddy cringes at the outburst, backing himself up against the nearest tree, afraid of both Victoire's wrath and her purposely-heartbreaking tears. "I—I'm leaving. On a tour. Of Europe. Um."

Victoire crosses her arms, blue eyes narrowing at him. "And you didn't think to tell me this until a week before you left _why_?"

"I didn't want you to mope about it!" he cries, and he's forced to duck out of the way of a jinx as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth.

"You are such a stupid, thoughtless, annoying _prat_!" Victoire fumes, casting another easily-dodged spell at him. Her anger makes it hard for her to aim properly, a fact that he's profoundly grateful for. "I _cannot_ believe you would just up and leave me like this! I can't believe you wouldn't _tell_ me earlier! I can't believe you—that you—couldn't have—"

Her furious muttering vanishes under a sob, and instantly, Teddy's at her side as she falls to the ground.

"Torie, please don't cry," he pleads, wrapping his arms around and pulling her close to him. "Please don't. It'll be okay. It's only for…um, a year or so."

Victoire jerks away from him. "A _year_?" she demands. "Teddy!"

He touches her cheek, wiping away some stray tears, and sighs. "Torie, I'm really sorry. But I—I always wanted to travel. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that," she mumbles. "I just always thought you'd wait for me to graduate so we could go together."

He takes a deep breath. "I can do that, if you want," he offers. "Just don't cry. I hate it when you cry."

Victoire laughs weakly and buries her head in his shoulder. "I hate it when I cry, too," she admits. "Don't wait for me. I can't keep you from your dreams. I just—I'll miss you, is all."

"I'll miss you, too," whispers Teddy into her windblown curls, wondering if he can live without her for a year.

* * *

No. He can't.

It takes him a while to get his answer, but somewhere around his fifteenth date with some gorgeous, exotic girl, he realizes that he really, _really_ misses Victoire.

"Teddy? Teddy, are you okay?" Marcy—French socialite, Beauxbatons graduate, flirty, giggly, and entirely too clingy—asks, her too-brown eyes peering at him with concern.

"Yeah," he mutters, shaking his head to clear it. "I just—I just realized something. Marcy, I'm sorry. I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" she demands, rising to her feet. Her (too) straight, (boring) brown hair whips around her face as she leans towards him. "Eat here?"

She knows what he means. Teddy knows she's just grasping for straws.

"No, Marcy, I can't go out with you anymore," he tells her, keeping his voice as gentle as possibly, and stands up. "I'm sorry."

He walks out of the (too fancy, too French) restaurant and wanders around aimlessly for a while. Joseph, who's come on the tour with him, enters the sidewalk though the doorway of a nearby gift shop and looks at him quizzically.

"Everything all right?" Joseph asks.

"Everything's fine," Teddy mutters, his lack of spirit evident in the words.

"Right, I believe that," Joseph rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Teddy. We've only known each other for eight years now. What's the matter? Do you miss home or something?"

"Well, yeah," he admits. Joseph catches on quickly, though.

"Miss Victoire, don't you?" he says with a knowing look on his face.

"A little," Teddy says defensively. "She's my best friend, that's all."

"Of course," Joseph drawls sarcastically. "That's _all_, is it? Then you don't mind Apparating over to Spain and staying there another month?"

"Merlin, you're a git," Teddy groans. "I want to go back home, all right?"

Joseph grins suddenly. "I was wondering when you'd say that. C'mon, mate, let's go book some train tickets. I always wanted to travel underwater!"

* * *

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Harry's voice is calm amidst the howling winds and roaring ocean, and it makes Victoire glance up at him in confusion.

"What are you doing here?" she asks in surprise. "I didn't think anyone else came out here."

Harry smiles sadly at her and sinks down next to her, right beside Dobby's grave. "Well, considering I _dug_ this grave, I'd rather like to come out here once in a while, don't you think?"

"Oh, right," she grins. "Sorry. I forgot."

"It's easy to forget something that happened before you were conceived," Harry agrees, returning her grin. "So—what's up?"

"What do you mean?" Victoire asks, already on defensive.

"Well, when a pretty girl sits outside by the grave of a house-elf, staring out at the ocean in the least-cliché way possible, something's up," Harry tells her, gently tugging on one of her curls. "Mind indulging my curiosity?"

Victoire sighs and lets her head fall into his lap on instinct, the way she always used to on her birthday when she was younger and he'd come comfort her because everybody was sad when they should, in the mind of a young girl, be happy. "I miss Teddy," she confesses.

Harry begins untangling the knots in her strawberry-blond hair. "I bet he misses you, too," he offers neutrally.

"I bet he doesn't," she mutters, retreating into the pessimistic worldview that's been the norm for her since Teddy left. "I bet he's having tons of fun with Joseph and those exotic girls and all the food he can eat and—"

"Shh," Harry interrupts her. "I think you're upsetting the ocean. Listen."

She listens. Sure enough, the waves are crashing wildly against the sand and rocks, causing quite a ruckus when combined with the leaves rustling in the chilly winds. "That's not my fault!"

"Yes, it is," he says, a teasing smile in his words. "You're depressing it. You should stop."

Against her will, a giggle bubbles out of her. Then, another. And another, and another, until she's shaking with laughter in his lap, thoughts of Teddy wrapped around some Italian supermodel vanishing from her mind like the sun vanishes behind the clouds every winter.

"Don't you feel better now?" Harry asks, grinning, when her laughter finally slows to a stop.

Victoire sits up and launches herself at him for a hug. "Yeah, I do. Thanks, Uncle Harry."

"Anytime, kiddo," Harry laughs, pulling back so he can smooth her tousled bangs out of her eyes. "You know what else will make you feel better? Sunday night dinner at the Burrow."

She laughs, collapsing against him, this time more with relief than depression. "I'll be there," she promises.

He kisses her temple. "Good. I heard a rumor that if you surround yourself with family, all your wishes will come true."

* * *

So, maybe she's not _entirely_ surprised that Harry's 'rumor' turns out to be true.

"Hey, Torie."

It's been a year. One whole year of rejecting other boys, throwing herself into studying, and occasional postcards from whatever country he was in at the moment. She's missed him like crazy, and now he's standing in front of her, his hair turquoise, his eyes grey, and a half-smile on his face.

"_Teddy_!" she gasps, only just stopping herself from jumping into his arms like the heroine of some silly, romantic muggle movie.

"Don't I get a hug?" Teddy asks, offering her a brighter, more irresistible smile than his last.

Victoire crosses her arms. "Maybe. Depends on if you brought me any gifts or not."

"Just one," Teddy says slowly, and he drops to one knee.

"Oh, my goodness," Victoire breathes, scarcely able to believe the scene in front of her. Teddy produces a small, velvet box from the pocket of his jacket and offers it her, gingerly opening the lid. Surrounded by white silk sits a band of gold adorned with a wine-red diamond in the shape of a rose.

"Victoire Weasley," Teddy says softly, taking one of her hands in his free one. "Will you marry me?"

"Teddy, I—oh, goodness," Victoire gasps, kneeling down next to him and hesitantly touching the sparkling red diamond. "I can't believe—how did you even—"

"I love you," he tells her with a smile. "And Joseph's mum is a jewelry-maker. But that's not the point. The point is, will you—?"

"Yes!" she chokes out, diving into his arms with a laugh of delight. "Yes, of course!"

He slides the ring onto her finger and kisses her for the first time.

Maybe she'll get that wedding she planned when she was seven after all.

* * *

"Do you, Teddy Lupin, take this witch as your bride in sick—?"

"You bet."

The minister looks at the beaming groom strangely. "Erm, okay. Do you, Victoire Weasley, take this wizard as your groo—?"

"Of course I do."

He sighs in exasperation. "Right. You may now kiss the bride."

It's breezy in the backyard of the Burrow, and the fragrances of lemonade and laughter float on the breezes. Outside the tent, stars light up the velvety-black night skies, showering starlight upon the wedding guests who sit in the relative comfort of the tent. All are silent as Teddy sweeps Victoire into his arms and kisses her.

"I love you," he whispers as their family breaks out into a chorus of '_Aww'_s.

Victoire beams up at him, happier than anyone has any right to be. "I love you, too."

Sometimes, fairytales do come true.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Wow. I mean, **_**wow**_**. This is my 40****th**** fanfic. Ever. I can't even believe I made it this far. But, to celebrate the occasion, I thought I'd serve up almost 9,000 words of Teddy/Victoire fluff =) As my favorite (and recently rather neglected) couple, I think they deserved something special for my 40****th**** :D Also, my friend Kat gave me some prompts a few weeks ago—'dress', 'crystal', 'ballcap', and 'clock face'. See if you can spot them =D**

**Please, please, please review! I really want to hear your thoughts on this one! Thanks!**


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